Nights Like These
by themorningbirdie
Summary: Lily has taken to waiting for the boys to get back after the full moon. In some ways, these nights are her favorite. ONESHOT


_Here is a little one shot I did a while back and decided to finally post while I am in between chapters of We Were Not Magnificent. Much of the inspiration for that story came from this little fluff scene so I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know what you think!_

 **Nights Like These**

I'm not sure when our monthly traditions began. I can only assume it was sometime last year, soon after I learned about Remus's "furry little problem". I'm still not entirely sure what possessed me, but last fall I took to waiting up for them in the common room until they returned from their...adventures. I think there is a certain burden to knowing such a dramatic secret and I suppose a particularly close level of friendship is one of them. Knowing the truth lead to an odd and compulsive need to be a part of it. I would usually doze off on top of a pile of my textbooks by the time the fire was nothing but ash just to be woken up in the wee hours of the night by someone gently shaking my shoulders or rubbing a careful hand down by back. They always looked like hell. I always mended them. The next morning we never mentioned it.

This summer had killed me. Being apart from my boys and not being a member of their world for a few months had hurt immensely. I'd stare up at the full moon shining through my bedroom window and think about them until I could finally nod off to sleep. I supposed until this summer I hadn't realized that they had become "my boys" at all… but they were, particularly on nights like these.

I try to sit curled in the smallest ball I can manage. I feel tiny on the giant couch in the Heads dorms. I'm wearing the giant crimson jumper I absconded from James' closet the first week of classes. It's winter now, and it's the type of cold that bites right through you so I feel as though that's the only justification I need to wear it to bed every night. Besides, I like the way the fabric feels when it rub it against my skin and the way James' spicy scent washes over me when I burry my face in it. He had never mentioned missing it but would give me a knowing smirk whenever he saw it. It is among one of my favorite possessions now.

Having our own Head dormitories has certainly made the secrecy of our tradition much easier. For that I am grateful. Unfortunately our close living quarters has not cut down on the rumors, gossip, and blatant lies about the non existent relationship James and I shared. Most people had thought I was pregnant at least once this term.

I sigh and run a frustrated hand through my messy hair. James and I spend almost all our free time together (which between school, head duties, Slug Club, and Quidditch was notably not much), but other than that I didn't understand the gossip. I could as much be dating any of the other Marauders as soon as James. In fact, infuriatingly enough, all three of the other boys are more openly affectionate to me than he is. Just yesterday Sirius kissed me on the forehead in the Great Hall when I fixed his horrifically lopsided tie before we went to our Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Remus made a poor attempt at braiding my hair in the common room while we worked on Ancient Runes together and waited for the others to get out of Quidditch practice. Peter gave me awkward hugs whenever he got the chance, which was pretty much every time I was parted from him. James rarely touched me at all...with the exception of nights like this one of course.

I think about last month, when I had ran to him and thrown myself into his expecting arms and he had buried his nose in my neck. Just the thought of it makes me feel full and hollow inside at the same time. I wish he hugged me like that every day.

I am in love with James Potter. My hands get clammy just worrying about him being out there no matter how many times he's told me nothing would ever happen to him. I don't fall asleep on my homework anymore waiting for him, my chest is usually too constricted for that. The minutes tick by excruciatingly and I gnaw at my nails.

I suppose I love all the boys in their own way, but James, James is different. I love the way he leans against the door frame, waiting for me to get out of class or walk down to dinner together. I love the way he pours my pumpkin juice in the morning without having to ask me if I want it. I love the way he clenches his jaw and scoots closer to me whenever Severus is near by but would never actually say anything. I love the way his eyes always search the crowd for mine after he scores in Quidditch. God I _love_ him. The fact of the matter is, in the times when I am being completely honest with myself, I know he loves me too...and probably always had.

I guess James and I just got into the habit of showing each other love instead of saying it. I'd wear his golden practice jersey with the word "POTTER" printed on the back of it to every Quidditch match. He would read any muggle book I recommended. I would do his Potions homework. He would show me how to fly a broom.

My heart aches and I will the clock to move faster. It had been a particularly dreadful week and I hadn't seen James as much I as I was accustomed to. Mary said that's what made me a grouch. I sigh and grudgingly lay my head on the pillow beside me. I can't deny my exhaustion, but I also can't allow myself the rest. Not until they return. Not until they are safe. With the fire crackling beside me and comfort and embrace of James' sweater (which is a poor substitute for the real thing, but also certainly better than nothing) I begin to fight a losing battle for my own consciousness. My eyelids begin to droop….

"Wake up gorgeous, we're back." I feel a soft caress on my cheek and the edge of the couch sinks in as someone seats himself beside me.

I want to jump awake instantly, knowing exactly who is stroking my skin and murmuring to me, but find myself fighting my way slowly out of a sleepy daze.

"Everyone alright?" I ask, before my eyes even open.

"We're perfect as always, Evans." I hear Sirius say.

I sit up, rubbing my eyes.

I've seen them like this so many times before but it still shocks me. They are ragged, exhausted, and yet somehow overwhelmingly filled with life. I wonder how I ever found it in my heart not to adore each of them instantly. I let my eyes sweep over each of them, assessing the damage. Sirius's face is covered with dirt and his dark eyes, though tired, still spark like a fire. Peter has sunk on the floor near the fireplace and looks perfectly smudgy. He is nursing a deep scratch on his forearm by cradling it close to his chest. Poor Remus is frightening. His eyes are sunken and surrounded with bags too dark and deep for someone his age. His brow is furrowed in a harsh line. I stifle the urge to rush to him immediately and wrap him in my arms.

James is sitting next to me, body pressed to my side, twirling the end of my hair in his fingers. When I turn to him I am overwhelmed by his closeness. I don't even get a good look at him aside from his askew glasses and soot covered face before he laces our fingers together and presses his forehead against mine.

"All is well. We're back now." This is not new territory for us. His lips are a literal breath away from mine, pouring out reassuring words. It quickens my pulse.

"Good." I say squeezing his hands, "But let's have a look at you." I detach myself from James with effort and walk to Peter. Thanks to our stash of my potions it does not take me long to fix, wrap, and care for all of their major bruises and abrasions. James has a particularly nasty one on his abdomen but it is difficult for me to concentrate as my fingers ghosted over his bare skin. We don't speak much as I patch them up. We never do.

When I am finished they all look mildly presentable. Of course they are still exhausted and worse for wear, but at least not quite as obviously. It is at this time when a newer tradition begins. Sirius and Peter both lay down on the large couches near the dying fire and Remus makes his way into my room, shutting the door soundly behind him. James takes me by the hand and leads me to his room.

"Let's get at least a few hours of sleep before class. We will live to fight another day."

James' room is messy and full and large and just so very HIM it makes my heart swell. Books litter the floor and Quidditch posters cover the walls. His large four poster bed is unmade, but somehow still inviting. I slip into the covers and sigh with contentment. James, who has taken off his shirt entirely, slides in next to me and gathers me in his arms. I've never slept better in my life then on the nights we do this. It's one of those dreamless, blissful sleeps that leaves you a bit confused but extremely well rested when you wake. We both know that this- me in his bed all night- is pushing the boundaries, but it's also too enjoyable and right to stop. I've found myself wanting to creep in his bed more often, but when my hand is a hairs breadth away from his door knob I always realize don't have the courage. For some reason he only asks me on nights like these. I suppose it's so Remus can have a proper bed. I rest my head on his chest and he kisses the top of my head.

"I've missed you this week you know." I say sleepily into his shoulder.

I feel him smile against my hair. "I've missed you more gorgeous, I can promise you that."

We are quiet for a long time and I would have thought he was asleep if it wasn't for his hand tracing idle patterns on my back.

"James? We're together aren't we?" I ask before I can stop myself. I'm not sure if it's his proximity or my lack of sleep that lowers my inhibitions enough to confront him.

He chuckles at this, making my head bob up and down. I feel his lips press against my forehead once more. "Yes love, I suppose we are."

My heart soars. It's not like I was unaware of the nature of our relationship, but Merlin it's nice to say it.

"Does that make you happy?" He asks, lifting my chin so he can look me in the eye.

I nod vigorously, "Very much".

His hazel eyes dance. "Good."

I crane my neck up so that I can press my forehead against his. "I guess if I'm yours and you're mine that means I can kiss you."

His hands leave from my back and come to cup my face instead. "I was always yours Lily Evans." His lips brush against mine, infuriatingly tender, not quite in a kiss. It is like being kissed by a butterfly's wings. "And you could have always kissed me whenever you wanted."

So I do. I move my lips the centimeter it takes and we are kissing. His lips are still soft and warm against mine, but he kisses me with a kind of unbridled passion that I cannot explain. I'd thought about what kissing James Potter might be like but my imagination could not compare to this. His hands go to tangle in my hair and there is a soft humming noise coming from the back of his throat. I am encouraged by this and shift in his arms so I am practically on top of him. He hums appreciatively but when my tongue runs along his bottom lip he rips himself away, panting wildly.

"Lily I can't tell you how long or how badly I have wanted this. Obviously I would gladly sell my soul to kiss you like that again. But love, I have to ask, are you sure you want this?"

I sit up and pull away indignantly though our legs are still tangled together. "What do you mean 'am I sure I want this' you blasted fool!?"

"Merlin, keep your voice down or you will wake the others." I glare at him icily and he winces, instantly trying to explain himself. "All I am saying is that it's been a long night, you are exhausted, you are in my bed, and you've been worried about us all night. I want to make sure you're thinking straight is all. I would never want to….take advantage of the friendship we've forged."

"Friendship!?" I spit out like its the dirtiest word I've ever heard in my entire life. "I thought we established that we were together you bloody idiot."

"Jesus, Lily we did, I mean we are. I'm yours in anyway that you will have me, I swear. I just don't want you to feel like this...physical stuff is necessary for us to be together. I don't want to push anything here." He runs his thumb along my lower lip, eyes boring into me. "I've spent so long mucking this whole thing up. I can't be too careful."

I roll my eyes. "I wanted to kiss you."

He smiles. " I wanted to kiss you too."

I lean in closer, "I'm in love with you."

His breath catches and he looks so shocked for a moment I think he might lose consciousness. "I am excruciatingly in love with you Lily Evans. Always have been, always will be. Obviously."

"Good." I say in way of answer and lean down to kiss his smiling lips again. This time he does not stop me.


End file.
